Calypso
by Ivy Darcourt
Summary: Calypso finds a soldier in the sea. Chapter 2 The Debate
1. Chapter 1

**Calypso**

**Chapter I  
Soldier in the Sea**

I

Sadness informs me as I walk this treasured island.  
It shines, reflecting the golden light of Helios.  
Oh, I left Olympus long ago, exhausted by the petty squabbling.  
Not to mention irresistible gods with roving eyes and angry wives.  
On Olympus I could be innocently, righteously meddling,  
Hoping for one afternoon of family tranquility.  
But, of course, I am a lesser god.

Grandmother, noticing my distress, told me of this isolated place.  
Sadly, deeply, a door opened and there was clear blue sky.  
To be honest, a few clouds have floated by.  
I know something Zeus doesn't know.  
Not even he can change the rules.  
The door has opened, sadness has entered, and I have retreated.  
This cannot be undone, even by the sky god.

II

Sadness is my friend, I do not fear,  
But I do desire company.  
Are there others like me?  
I pray to the ancient sacred powers.  
I make the required offering.  
I fall to the earth.  
Unconsciousness brings a vision.  
In the sea, a soldier prays for help.  
Awake, I send my nymphs for him.

Gray, he is, close to death.  
These humans are usually pink.  
I provide for him, and he colors back.  
He wakes, and as we watch each other he begins cry.  
It is an effect I seem to have.  
To calm him, I tell him what I know.  
The door, the sadness, the world as it is,  
And the meddling of the gods.

He knows a great deal about their interference.  
He is smart – for a human.  
Perhaps it is my sadness that informs him.  
He recounts the story of his perilous and interrupted journey home,  
And I can see how powerful meddling is.  
Poor creature, the gods and war have tortured him.  
After eons of dodging Eros, I find I love him.  
He will find solace with me, love informed by sadness.  
Sadness knows I cannot keep him.  
But I desire it, and I have the power to hold him for a little while.

III

Sadness informs me.  
I am no better or worse.  
I am different yet equal.  
Worthy I exist.

Odysseus has lost everything.  
I wonder; do all kings suffer?  
If kings suffer do they suffer greatly?  
Do kings listen to the sirens of sorrow?

Oh, I am mad for him.  
Passion informed by sadness  
Whispers you cannot have him.  
But what does passion know?

He loves my embrace.  
He craves my ardor.  
He knows the sadness.  
He's found the door.

Passion informed by sorrow  
Murmurs I cannot bind him.  
Yet we reel in passion unbridled.

But pleasure is not happiness.  
When I sleep, he watches the sea.  
Deep in perfect sadness he weeps,  
Though I offer him immortality.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Debate

I

Freedom shelters endless blue sky.  
Freedom born of sorrow,  
Shepherds us to unbound bliss.

Odysseus, seeking ecstatic oblivion,  
Cries, unable to sustain its heights.  
Is prolonged pleasure painful for humans?  
Is godly love cruel?

Why?  
Why does he choose death?  
It is incomprehensible.  
Yet, he prides himself on rationality.

Hovering over the hill above my greening grotto,  
The bright light of the world surrounding me,  
Under the beloved blue of the limitless skies,  
For me, this abundance was once enough.

I imagine the world without this sorry man.  
And I – a goddess— mourn his loss.  
There can never be another such.

Surely, his wife would wish him immortality.  
Surely, she would wish him this blessing I can bestow and she cannot.  
Surely, he is wantonly mistaken when he heartlessly utters no!

How can death be better than life?  
It is a mystery I shall never enter.  
I believed I had reached the limits of sorrow,  
But perhaps there is no margin - like eternity.

If sorrow cannot be circumscribed,  
Can I accommodate it?  
And if I cannot will I disappear?

I would feed him the ambrosia without his knowledge,  
But it would be wrong. The willful man must consent.  
Why does he choose to die?  
How can I bear the pain of unrequited desire, forever?

Where is perfect sorrow?  
Speak! Return me to that hopeless state,  
Free from expectation.  
Love is too full of wayward imagination.

II

Honor, Courage, Bravery, Valor, Glory in Battle!  
It is for these Odysseus needs the ability to die.  
That idiot man insists that if a warrior's life is not forfeit,  
Heroism is a sham; the only true heroes, he importunes,  
Are the shadowy champions of Elysium.

And what --asked I -- of Prometheus?  
That bold Titan who, for millennia, endured agony,  
While bound to a mountain top,  
His liver ripped from him daily,  
Just so human beings could stay warm  
While cooking their disgusting food,  
And polluting the night with firelight.

"Seems a good reason for mortality,"  
Returned that mortal ingrate I adore,  
"He would have needed only one surgery  
To join the mighty heroes in the Elysian Fields."

Smiling, I knew I had the wily, flippant King,  
Was he not braver? –I countered –  
Believing he would pay for eternity.  
Knowing there would be no respite, just eternal suffering?  
He acted heroically; knowing he would receive no reward,  
So unlike your mortal, so-called heroes and their booty wars.

He had no answer for the Titan's unbound generosity,  
But advanced on me in a fit of raging anger,  
Then wordless, he turned, departing in a fury.  
Why did I challenge him thus?  
Taking from him his last shred of superiority,  
I do not know, but I do know this will end badly.

Tonight I will entice him to my chamber,  
And in the sweet darkness give him back his dominance.  
But I fear it is not primacy in bedroom tactics that he seeks.  
His pride lies in his cleverness; Athena is his true reflection.  
I have doomed myself to loneliness and sorrow by winning this debate,  
But perhaps there is an alternative solution.  
If I cannot have Odysseus; I shall have the next best thing.


End file.
